Musings on the Nature of Stories
by Aromene
Summary: Sometimes, just sometimes, even the most unbelievable story of childhood turns out to be true.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Tolkien. Peter Jackson. Need I say more? There are quite a few lines from TH: AUJ in here, which of course belong to Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, Peter Jackson and Guillermo del Toro.**

**AN: I've always felt that Fili and Kili rather get the short end of the stick. There's plenty of dwarven back-story in the book(s), but most of that relates to Thorin. We know Fili is his heir, as Thorin has no children himself, but the nature of that isn't really explored. Ori is, obviously, the youngest dwarf on the quest, but Fili and Kili are the heirs to the throne **_**and**_** young. They were clearly raised to be warriors, but for what battle? It seems that life in the Blue Mountains was reasonably safe and I can't imagine they were allowed into much actual danger growing up, for fear they'd be killed. How did they join the quest and, better still, how did they manage on it? A look at two young dwarves from childhood through, well, you know.**

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In childhood, children will believe almost anything. Even the most fanciful legends and stories, conjured by weary parents in attempts to induce sleep, will be met with complete and utter belief. Is it not until children become older that they learn that many of the stories of their youth are just that – stories. Others they learn hold some half-truths. But sometimes, just sometimes, even the most unbelievable story of childhood turns out to be true.

Fili could remember Erebor. Except that wasn't quite right. He couldn't _remember_ it because he had never been there. But he had heard so many tales growing up that he felt like he _had_. Sometimes, as a young dwarfling, he would wake with night terrors of fire-breathing monsters, of death and pain and the end of everything. Often these terrors fell after he had convinced Uncle Dwalin to tell him a bed-time story. Uncle Thorin didn't tell _stories_. Uncle Dwalin, who wasn't _really_ an uncle but certainly acted like one, would look very sad when Fili asked why, and say in a soft rumbling voice that is was because – for Thorin Oakenshield – the stories weren't over yet.

Fili didn't really know what that meant when he was a little one, but he started to figure it out later. Sometimes Uncle Thorin would get a faraway and sad look in his eyes and Fili figured that was when he was remembering. Because Thorin _could_ remember Erebor and all the horrors that came with it. Fili's night terrors were bad enough; he couldn't imagine having lived it.

When Kili was old enough to sneak into Uncle Dwalin's lap and hear the stories too, Fili started to think that the tales of high deeds and great courage and nasty dragons sounded made-up. Kili, still as young as his brother used to be, thought otherwise. But he never woke from night terrors, crying about fire and death and pain. Fili was only a little jealous of that.

There were months when Uncle Dwalin did not visit. He was travelling in the east their mother said. There were months when Uncle Thorin was not around either. Those months were harder to bear, but it allowed Fili and Kili to grow up out of the shadow of that which blanketed their uncle. A fact for which their mother was duly thankful. Fili learned to use a sword and axe and Kili found a love of the bow. And they learned to fight like all dwarf youngsters did, when deemed old enough. They learned what their fathers and grandfathers and great-grandfathers had learned. But where their fathers' had gained such skills in the comfort of vast halls and the strength of armies, Fili and Kili and the others learned in forgotten caves amongst a scattered people. Never did they learn to fight as an army did. There was no use for armies in Ered Luin. They had peace, of a sort, after all.

Fili and his younger brother Kili had never known another way of life. After all, the stories of old – though grand – could hardly be as true as Uncle Dwalin made them out to be. Just tales to frighten the children at night, as uncles are inclined to do.

But, of course, the tales least likely to be true are usually the ones that are.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Tolkien. Peter Jackson. Need I say more? There are quite a few lines from TH: AUJ in here, which of course belong to Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, Peter Jackson and Guillermo del Toro.**

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At first, the trip is something of an adventure. Fili and Kili receive a rather cryptic letter from their uncle one day in early summer. It doesn't say much, and the directions of where to meet are less than clear, but since they have both been feeling the itch of needing to be taken seriously as grown dwarves, out from under their mother's skirts, the lack of directions seems even more interesting.

They set out together one morning at dawn, nearly a month before mid-summer. It's only a few days from the Blue Mountains to the borders of the Shire, and it is nice weather without worry of danger around every corner. That does not mean the two brothers aren't armed to the teeth and quite willing to _pretend_ there is an orc pack around every corner. But none appears. They slip across the borders of the quiet land of the Halflings in the darkness of a moonless night and camp in an area of trees a few miles east during the day. They have made more than good time and have a day to wait before the designated meeting at a place called Bag End, in Hobbiton.

Kili knows maps well, and he knows where they need to go. So the two of them lay low for the next day, content to watch Hobbits come and go about their business from the shelter of dark trees in the west lands of rolling hills. It is only when the sun sets the next evening that they break camp and set out at a brisk pace for the town of Hobbiton.

Then don't meet any other dwarves on their way, though the letter from Thorin indicated there were others meeting them. Still, it is only slightly after supper time in decent places when the two brothers sneak into Hobbiton, avoiding the lit windows of the halfling folk and make their way up the hill to the round green door. Thorin's instructions were only that it was the house at the top of the hill above the village and they would know the one. It is only when Kili ventures to the gate that they notice the shinning rune at the base of the round wooden door. A 'G'. Clearly they are in the right place.

Although, they are both a little worried when the Halfling that answers the door in his night robe seems pretty confused, but once he assures them the party hasn't been cancelled Fili catches the voice of Uncle Dwalin down the hall and all is well. They are not the first arrivals, but by no means the last, and there is certainly enough food to be getting on with, though the ale is lacking.

Thorin is, of course, late. As long as Fili can remember, Uncle Thorin has been later than intended. Every time he was due back, he would never arrive on the day looked for. Fili has long thought it was because his uncle simply does not keep track of days the same way as most folk. He is too busy reminiscing on the past to really pay attention to the present.

Fili never says that out loud, however.

Still, it has been nearly six months since Thorin has been home to visit his sister and nephews and so, as usual, Fili is willing to forgive him anything. And Kili has always been less bothered by Thorin's tardiness. But Kili is the first to notice that there is a cloud hanging over his uncle's head. Thorin has always been serious, distant, in some cases even cold, but there is a weight upon his shoulders that Kili cannot remember. Nor can Fili when he mentions it to his brother. The weight of the world, or at least of a mountain.

Still, when Gandalf produces the map – and the key – something stirs in the hearts of the brothers. Something that they have wanted to feel for a long time, and never experienced. They are going off to war, to adventure and glory and at the end of it will be home. A home neither of them have ever known, but both have dreamt of. A home in stories and legends and now very, very real.

After their new 'burglar' feints, Fili and Kili find a quiet corner away from the others, especially Dwalin and Thorin, and enjoy a few moments of delight that they have been asked along. By Thorin. The great Thorin Oakenshield of their childhood stories has asked them on a quest to retake their homeland. They are two of only thirteen dwarves who have answered the call. There will be much glory and victory. Neither of the young dwarves spare a moment to think of what else lies ahead.

It is only slightly troubling to lose their burglar only right after they gain him, but that doesn't last long. Bilbo Baggins shows up the next morning with a light shining in his eyes that both Fili and Kili are familiar with. It's the same one as is in theirs.

But it's a bit boring, this going on an adventure thing. The Shire isn't exactly teaming with orcs, dragons or other adventures, and the only annoyance is the rain that falls for two days. By the time the company reaches the plains that separate the rolling hills of the Shire from the Misty Mountains, Fili and Kili are started to get bored. Which is never a good thing.

Even Balin's story to Bilbo and his remonstrations at joking about attacking orcs does not create much interest. For a few minutes, it's a wonderful story, but it is still just that: a story. Despite the look in Thorin's eye and the grief plain as day on Balin's, it is a distant tale a hundred years old. They want more. They have trained all their (short) lives to fight in a war they are now marching towards and the reality of that looming conflict is still a much better tale than anything Balin can spin.

The Trolls are a bit more like it. Almost a bit too like it, in all honesty. Fili and Kili both have a moment where they fear they would lose their new friend. And there is a longer moment when they think that getting roasted on a spit will be the less-than-fitting end to the House of Thror. But Bilbo and Gandalf save the day, and afterwards as they collect the ponies and settle back down at camp, it seems almost like it has been fun. A few moments of danger, a bit of fighting, and a victory. Just what they thought they'd find on this road.

It is the last bit of fun the brothers are to know. What Fili and Kili go to sleep that night unaware of, though the reality is very clear to their uncle, is that they have wandered unknowingly into the story that haunted and fascinated their childhoods. And the truth of it will be a hard lesson to learn.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Tolkien. Peter Jackson. Need I say more? There are quite a few lines from TH: AUJ in here, which of course belong to Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, Peter Jackson and Guillermo del Toro.**

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Trolls are An Adventure. Even when Fili sends Bilbo straight into the trolls' camp to free the ponies, Kili never once gives a thought that anything will go wrong. If he did think that, he wouldn't have agreed with his brother to send their _not-even-remotely-a-burglar_ into such danger. But Bilbo is tiny and silent and all he needs to do is open the fence and the ponies will run for cover. And the trolls aren't exactly fast enough to catch them with ease.

Kili takes a last long look at Bilbo as he creeps towards the camp and then follows Fili back to the other ponies. They check to make certain no more are missing, while frantically gobbling down the stew Bilbo has brought. They _are_ starving, after all. And then they hear it, in the distance, the unmistakable sound of trolls getting _very_ angry.

'That didn't go quite as planned,' Fili admits out loud.

'Uncle?'

Fili sighs. 'Uncle,' he agrees and they rush to camp to find Thorin and alert the dwarves, hoping it isn't too late for Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End.

Thorin does not stop to ask what has happened or why. He only asks what the problem is, how many trolls there are, and that Kili can lead them back to the troll camp as quickly as possible.

'Fili, stay here with Bifur and guard the rest of the ponies. We don't want the _rest of them_ wandering off.' Fili opens his mouth to argue, but backs down when he sees the look on Thorin's face.

'Kili,' their uncle says, 'lead on.'

They sneak back through the woods. At least the trolls are so loud they can't hear the dwarves' approach over the wind. There's a storm coming, for certain. Bilbo doesn't look to be in a very good spot, although the fact that he is alive and breathing rather impresses Kili, until one of the trolls gets him in his grasp, seconds away from squashing the poor Hobbit to mush.

Since they got him into this mess, Kili's willing to get him out of it. 'Drop him!' he shouts, shouldering through the trees to stand in the light of the clearing. He swipes his sword at the nearest dwarf.

'You what?' is asks.

'I said,' Kili says, slowly. 'Drop him.'

To be fair, the troll does exactly that, he just drops him on top of Kili. Unexpected, but it's the pause Thorin needs to rush in with the army in tow.

The attack against three slow-witted fools sends their blood racing and fills their hearts. This is certainly more like what they've been hoping for and it has the added benefit of being trolls and not orcs, which can be particularly nasty. The eleven companions work in tandem, but Kili feels the loss of Fili, who has always been there to fight (and practice) beside him.

Until they catch sight of Bilbo, held between two trolls twenty times his size. They aren't going to squash him now, they're going to tear him apart.

'Bilbo!' Kili cries, despite himself.

The troll smirks. 'Lay down your arms or we'll rip _his_ off!'

There is a very long pause and Kili takes a deep breath, reading to return to battle. The sound of Thorin's sword hitting the dirt is rather unexpected. They're giving up? Just like that? Kili stares at his uncle in disbelief, but then follows suit. Behind him he can hear the others doing the same thing. At least Fili is safe now, far enough away the trolls won't find him.

The trolls are in a hurry. It doesn't take long for two of them to strip Dwalin, Bofur, Dori, Nori and Ori to their underthings and lash them to a spit. Or to truss the rest of them up in sacks. It's not dignified and Thorin glares about it the whole time. But since the third troll is holding Bilbo hostage, there isn't much they can do about it.

It is only when the dwarves are taken care of that they sack Bilbo too and toss him down beside the group. Kili begins to worry a bit at this point when they start discussing how to eat dwarf.

Bilbo suddenly rolls himself to his feet and hops forward. 'Wait! You're making a terrible mistake!'

The clearing goes silent. Behind him, Kili can hear Thorin groan.

The groaning gets louder, as well as the teeth gnashing, as Bilbo attempts to explain how to cook _them_. Is he serious? Why _help_ the trolls?

'Ye-es, I'm telling you, the secret is…to skin them first!'

Outcry. Kili can't believe his ears! Bilbo should be helping them, but he's offering them up on the spit! Honestly. Is this some sort of repayment for sending him into the troll clearing in the first place?

Whatever Bilbo is trying to do, it doesn't work. Kili catches his breath as one of the trolls picks up Bombur and holds him above his gigantic gapping mouth. They're done for now, surely. Kili misses his brother desperately.

'Not-not that one, he's – he's infected!' Bilbo shouts.

Kili is not impressed at the accusation. _Infected_? Dwarves? Honestly, of all the lies to tell. Kili can't help himself when he denies it out loud; it's utterly absurd.

He's about to open his mouth again, a little louder when a booted foot lands square in his back. Kili knows it's Thorin's. He's not quite sure why for a second, until reason sets in. _Of course_ Bilbo's lying. He's distracting the trolls! Smart Hobbit.

'Mine are the biggest parasites! I've got huge parasites!' Kili declares, extra loudly.

The trolls, unfortunately, aren't buying it. They aren't getting out of this mess so easily. Kili realises suddenly that all of this is their fault. He and Fili didn't keep a watch on the ponies, nor scout the area like they should have to find a troll den nearby. They're going to be roasted and eaten and it's i_his fault/i_.

And then there's blinding light and Gandalf's voice and Kili watches in disbelief as the trolls turn to stone in the dawn light.

Gandalf quickly drops down into the clearing when it is over and begins to untie the sacks. As Kili breaks free he rushes over to Bilbo and smacks him – rather more forcefully than necessary – on the back. 'Well done Mr. Baggins!'

'Uh, thank you,' Bilbo says. 'Any time, you know.' He pauses as if to think that one through. 'Yes, um. Where's your brother?'

Kili's smile falters. 'Thorin left him back at camp to guard the other ponies.'

'Probably for the best,' Bilbo reasons, not getting the point.

The others are helping Dwalin down from the spit. He's none too pleased, but it's nothing compared to the look of fury on Thorin's brow. Kili knows he's in for it at some point, but at least the troll den is a momentary distraction. Fili appears at his side.

'Sorry I missed the battle.'

'It wasn't as fun as I thought I would be brother, especially when I ended up tied in a sack about to be eaten!'

Fili smiles at that. 'Just another day on the East-West road. That's the first fun we've had since we started this trip.

Kili isn't so certain he'd call it 'fun' anymore. They begin to gather their things together while Thorin and Gandalf are off exploring the troll cave. Their uncle comes back armed with a rather fierce looking and beautiful weapon and Kili gulps. He and Fili are in so much trouble. He wonders if they're too old for a smacking now. Their mother always was _very_ good at smacking sense into her sons.

'Something's coming!' Thorin shouts and Kili doesn't allow that thought to go any further. He strings an arrow to his bow and hopes it's not orcs.

It is not orcs. It's not anything they expected. It is, in fact, a rather shabby wizard.

Kili and Fili take up residence out of hearing range, since clearly Gandalf wants to talk to his companion without other ears listening in. Thorin stands near them, glaring between Gandalf's turned back and his nephews, as if deciding which he'd rather lay into first.

Howls echo around the rocks.

'Was that a wolf?' Bilbo asks.

Bofur says what all of them know to be true. 'Wolves? No, that was not a wolf.'

And then there is a warg in their midst and Kili is very glad he still has an arrow to his forgotten bow. What was he just saying about orcs? No one was listening obviously. Kili nudges closer to his brother around the remains of the two wargs, his heartbeat already faster. Fight or flight is coming soon and it isn't going to be nearly as much fun as three slow-witted trolls around a camp fire.

The orcs aren't going to give them the courtesy of roasting them for dinner first. They are being hunted, not for sport or food but something much worse.

Kili and Fili share a look. They know this is a proper battle that is coming, and with wargs after them, death is stalking near. Fun is a long distant thought in their mind. Fili grabs Bilbo and pushes him forward as the company make for open land, Radagast headed off to try to draw the orcs away. It won't work, Kili can see that in Thorin's eyes.

Dwarves can run fairly fast, when the mood strikes them. Not as fast as a warg, unfortunately, but it might just let them get away if the brown wizard can distract the pack for long enough. Gandalf takes the lead, zigzagging across the open rocky lands. Kili runs with an arrow in his bow, but he only gets one chance to use it.

His heart is pounding as they huddle below the rocky outcrop and it's all he can do to keep his fingers from shaking; the string taunt and arrow in place. Above them, the deep breathy growl of a warg is clear and much, much too close. Kili takes a startling deep breath when Thorin nods at him and lets it out in a rush as he releases the arrow, as he has been taught back in the safety of distant mountains. Kili does not worry the shot will go array. But when the warg falls down towards them he cannot bring himself to grab his knife. It is Thorin that kills the orc, while Kili looks on.

Great warriors like Uncle Thorin do not freeze up in battle. For a brief moment, Kili is ashamed. He looks at his brother who gives him the vaguest smile. But that is all they have time for. The dying orc's cries have alerted the others and they are running again, following behind Gandalf to some unknown destination. Thorin might be concerned with what that is, but Kili doesn't care, as long as it's safe from their pursuers.

Suddenly the company are in the dip of another lay of the land and Kili spots a warg rider to his right. He can still hear the pack behind. They are being surrounded. 'There's more coming!' he shouts, but it is unnecessary. The others have already spotted their coming death.

'We're surrounded,' Fili states, and Kili realises that within seconds that is true. They have wargs and orcs coming at them from three sides and…

'Where is Gandalf?' Kili asks, for the grey hat of the wizard is not to be found in the field.

From behind Dwalin's disgust is obvious. 'He has abandoned us.'

Kili doesn't think that likely, but since the wargs are closing in he keeps that to himself. He notches another arrow, aiming out at the advancing horde, not sure where to shoot first.

'Hold your ground,' Thorin's voice cuts through them on and for the first time since they killed the first warg back in the forest, Kili feels his fear lighten a little. If he is going to die, he is going to do so fighting alongside some of the greatest dwarven warriors to yet live.

But it is not to be, at least not this day. Gandalf's voice is tinged with a hint of annoyance from behind them and Kili glances back to see the wizard standing behind a rock at their back.

'Come on, move!' Thorin decides suddenly, ushering the others back towards where Gandalf has once more vanished. Kili lets his arrow fly at the nearest warg. He needs to buy them time to get away now. 'Kili! Run!' his uncle screams. It is only then the young dwarf realises how close the other wargs are getting. He high tails it to the rock and doesn't hesitate to fling himself into the sudden hole that appears. Kili picks himself up beside Fili and they share a look: part relief, part stark fear, part something indescribable.

A horn sounds in the distance. It is sweet and ringing, not like the horns the dwarves carve.

Kili cannot help the slight gasp that escapes as the orc tumbles into their hiding hole. However, his racing heart calms as soon as he realises it is dead. Thorin leans down to pluck the arrow shaft from the carcass.

'Elves,' he says, his voice laced with hatred.

Kili and Fili do not quite understand why their uncle hates the elves so much. They know the story, of how the Elven King did not come to rescue the dwarves when Smaug attacked the Mountain, but some part of the brothers can understand the logic of this. The other part, the part that is dwarven to the core, knows they should hate the elves because their uncle does, and that is reason enough. Still, that means the horn was elven.

Kili and Fili have never met an elf. Kili, at least, would very much like to.

The company trudges down the tunnel, happy to leave to elves to warg killing behind them. Fili and Kili follow along at the back, behind Gandalf.

'Are you well brother?' Fili asks.

Kili shrugs. 'Alive and in one piece. I suppose that's all that's to be expected from a battle.'

Fili seems to hesitate a moment before throwing caution to the wind. 'I've never been that frightened in my life.'

'Or me,' Kili agrees and see his brother relax at this admonition. 'I knew there would be battles, however the reality seems to be rather a lot more…'

'Terrifying?' Fili offers.

'Yes,' Kili agrees. That is as far as their conversation goes, because they realise the others have stopped ahead of them. Gandalf is standing in the way, but Fili manages to push forward around the wizard's bulk to see what has stopped them.

'The Valley of Imladris. In the Common Tongue, it's known by another name.'

'Rivendell,' Bilbo breathes, awe in his voice. Kili can understand. Even by dwarven standards that prefer mountains and vast caverns, there is beauty here. It's a bit too natural, but his eye can pick out an influence that does not appear to be entirely foreign.

Thorin disagrees. 'This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy.'

The brothers share a look. The other dwarves shift uneasily on their vantage point. Bilbo looks confused. Gandalf just huffs in annoyance.

'You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself.'

Thorin is less than impressed, but Gandalf has a point about them needing help, and even he knows it. Kili is glad.

'Elves,' he whispers to Fili. 'Actual elves. I bet they have brilliant bows.'

Fili hisses back to keep quiet. 'Don't let uncle hear you.'

None of the company can help looking about them in curiosity as they enter the elven city. Bilbo seems to be the most in awe though, but from what Fili and Kili have gotten out of their burglar, it seems he grew up with quite a few tales of the elven races. And, they suppose, the natural element is probably more suited to Hobbits than dwarves.

The dark haired elf greets Gandalf like an old friend and the suspicious look on Thorin's face grows deeper. All of them can hear Thorin's whispered 'Stay sharp.'

Kili keeps one hand on his knife, but not the bow. He does not for one moment think the elves will actually attack them. Even if the tales of the wood elves are true, these are not wood elves.

The fact that Lord Elrond is not there might go badly for them, however, since it seems that's who Gandalf most wants to speak with. The horns echo through the valley as they did on the plains above and Kili thinks Thorin's reaction of staying together might be a good one as the horses come barrelling down on them. Very, very tall horses.

The exchange that follows mostly goes over their heads, though everyone shifts subtly when the elven lord calls Thorin by name. Do elves go around learning the names of dwarven princes by routine?

However, it seems Lord Elrond knows his way into a dwarf's good graces. Food is always met by acceptance of the offer, no matter the host.

Although, they regret accepting afterwards.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Tolkien. Peter Jackson. Need I say more? There are quite a few lines from TH: AUJ in here, which of course belong to Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, Peter Jackson and Guillermo del Toro.**

* * *

Fili is not quite as horrified as Ori is about the green stuff. Dis is a strict mother and even though dwarves may survive off of meat and roots more often than not, that doesn't mean she didn't keep her own garden and grow the occasional vegetable. The leafy stuff tastes a bit weird though.

The elves have been more than accommodating, besides the food. As soon as Thorin accepted the invitation to dinner, much to Gandalf's obvious relief and Lord Elrond's equally obvious amusement, two dark haired elves showed the company to an area of the house where they could rest and saw to it that pillows and blankets were provided for them. Which was all very fine since none of them had any thought to sleeping in an elvish bed, whatever that entailed.

The dwarves were politely told that dinner would be in an hour and someone would be along to show them the dining room. Thorin himself received a more formal invitation to dine with the Lord Elrond and Gandalf, which Fili thought was right and proper and which Dwalin groused about for the next hour, until they were shown to the dining room and realised that it was right beside where Thorin would be. Fully in site of the rest of the company and unlikely to be carried off by elves.

It was still a very strange place. There were aspects of Rivendell that seemed almost dwarven in design and certainly the rock carving was impeccable. Unfortunately, when Fili and Kili attempted to sneak off to explore a bit, Balin gave them a glare that would have rivaled anything their uncle could manage and told them not to wander off. It was a bit unfair. Did Balin really think these elves would kidnap them or some such? Fili didn't think they were the type, but the stories he had heard as a young dwarf said otherwise. He'd never really put much stock in those though.

Though the food was acceptable, if lacking in the animal variety of sustenance, the music was intolerable.

'Sounds like birds dying,' Kili muttered in his brother's ear, half-way through dinner. Fili snorted so loudly the musicians stopped playing and Balin glared at them again from his place beside Bilbo.

The Hobbit, Fili noted, still seemed to be in awe of everything. And he was very aware that Mr. Bilbo Baggins had in fact wandered off on his own earlier, without a single look from Balin in protest. Fili thought that was a bit unfair. Why, the Hobbit was the most vulnerable of the group and there he was wandering around the elvish city all on this own!

'We should sneak out later,' he turned to whisper in Kili's ear once the music resumed.

Kili was concentrating on picking apart the tart on his plate. 'With eleven watchful pairs of eyes?'

'Ori doesn't count,' Fili put in.

Kili gave his brother a hard look. 'Dwalin counts for ten.'

'Good point. But don't you want to see this place?'

'Yes,' Kili agreed. 'Right, we wait until the others bed down. Maybe Dwalin won't take first watch.'

'Sounds like a plan,' his fair haired brother agreed.

Dinner seemed to be nearing the end and the musicians finally stopped their playing and retired somewhere else in the house.

Suddenly Thorin, Gandalf and the elven lord rose from their seats. 'Balin,' Thorin's voice rang out over the quiet. Balin drew himself out of his chair with a sigh. 'See to the others,' Thorin said to Dwalin.

Gandalf, Balin and Thorin were lead from the dining room by Elrond. No one noticed Bilbo trailing along after them except Fili and Kili. They would have followed too, at least at a secretive distance, except Dwalin chose that moment to be his tall intimidating self and slung an arm around their shoulders, physically steering them down the hall towards the rooms the dwarves had been given.

'So much for that,' Kili muttered under his breath. Fili sighed.

'Is all right with you boys?' Dwalin's voice thundered above them. He released them only after he was certain they weren't about to scamper off after their uncle.

'Course!' Fili said, a little too forcefully.

'Certainly! Kili echoed, equally as strong.

Dwalin raised an eyebrow and stopped so suddenly in the middle of the hallway that the younger dwarves practically ran into him. The rest of the company was already several dozen steps ahead.

'You wouldn't be thinking of sneaking off tonight for explore, now would you?' the warrior asked.

'Us?' Fili said, looking more innocent than a toddling babe.

'Never,' Kili promised.

Dwalin humph-ed, clearly disbelieving. 'You be staying close tonight, the both of you. And don't think I won't say the same thing to young Ori. These are elves, lads. They aren't to be trusted and you should know that better than most. Thorin will tan your hides if he catches you sneaking off. And if you're thinking of trying that out later, I'd advise against it.'

Fili couldn't quite stop himself. 'Why's that?'

Dwalin glared. 'You don't think your uncle's like to sleep tonight, do you? We'll be gone by morning, quick as can be; soon as he gets the answers he needs from that elven lord.' Apparently believing this would be incentive enough to remain out of trouble, Dwalin left them standing forlornly in the hall as he headed off to join the others.

'So much for a rest,' Kili muttered.

'There's always the wood elves,' Fili reminded his brother. 'They're the ones we _really_ want to meet, right?'

'We'll be staying clear of their lands, if uncle has his way.'

'Fastest way to the Mountain is through the Greenwood. Those are wood elf lands. They won't like us trespassing, not if what Thorin's stories say is true.'

Kili began to trudge down the hall towards the sound of dwarven laughter. 'Why wouldn't they be?'

Fili followed, but he leaned in close and dropped his voice. 'You don't ever wonder about all those tales we were told as dwarflings?'

'About?' his brother prompted, also dropping his voice. He slowed his feet too so it would take longer to reach the company.

'All of it.'

'You think perhaps the elders are lying about the dragon?' Kili asked, incredulous.

'Idiot,' Fili hissed; no cruelty in his voice. 'No, of course not. But there are two sides to every story. You ever wonder what the other side is?'

The dark haired brother shrugged. 'Well, seems the ones about orcs and wargs was true enough.'

In the flickering light of the hallway lanterns, Fili's fair face darkened. 'Don't remind me. Thorin may be awake tonight in fear of the elves, but I won't sleep with the images of warg riders and hideous monsters in my head. I'll be glad if we don't see any more of them before this quest is through.'

'Here's hoping,' his brother echoed.

'You lads going to stand out there all night?' Bofur's voice boomed down the hall.

'We're coming,' they echoed together and hurried down to the end of the hall to the room set aside for them. Bofur already had a fire going, with what looked like carved wood from a piece of furniture and was roasting a sausage over the open flame.

'Meat!' Kili cried and made a grab for it.

Bofur pulled it away. 'It's not _done_ yet. And you'll be waiting your turn. This one's for Bombur. He'll waste away if he's not fed soon.'

'Doubtful,' Fili muttered.

Kili snorted and then the others were chortling with laughter too.

Which is how Thorin found them when he returned with Balin an hour later. 'Well?' Dwalin asked.

Thorin's eyes were dark and haunted and even Balin looked uneasy. 'We leave before dawn. Best get what sleep you can now. Dwalin, you and I will take the watch.' Dwalin nodded in agreement.

'We're leaving already?' Ori asked.

'Indeed, young dwarf. We have many leagues to go and not much time to get there. Now get some rest,' Balin told the others.

Fili slide himself closer to his brother. 'Not much time to get there? What do you think he means by that?'

In the firelight, Kili shrugged. 'They won't tell us for asking. But if we're leaving in a few hours, I'm getting some shut eye while I can. We can worry about all that tomorrow when we're walking _again_.'


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Tolkien. Peter Jackson. Need I say more? There are quite a few lines from TH: AUJ in here, which of course belong to Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, Peter Jackson and Guillermo del Toro.**

* * *

They were woken by Dori when the sky was still black, but the moon was down below the horizon so it must be nearly to morning. As silently as possible they packed their things and donned their weapons.

Kili heaved a sigh of discontent as the company made their way through the slumbering city. The dwarves were being extra cautious in their walking, since they weren't by nature silent folk. Bilbo, of course, didn't have that problem, but he was trudging along at the back of the company, clearly unhappy at the turn of events. Kili didn't think he necessarily disagreed with what he'd been told about them leaving promptly, due to their new time constraint on reaching the Mountain before Durin's Day, nor Thorin's promise that Gandalf would meet up with them later when he was done with the elves, but he was less than pleased about leaving the most comfortable living arrangement they had seen since leaving the Shire.

Kili couldn't really blame him. Sleeping with a roof over their head and with no worry of attack had been rather pleasant. Even if Thorin and Dwalin hadn't allowed themselves a moment of shut eye. Kili was entirely certain that if the elves had gotten it into their heads to attack their guests in the middle of the night, whether the dwarves were awake or not wasn't going to make a difference. Still, he kept that thought silent to everyone except his brother.

The company made their way over the bridge and along the far side of the river to a path different than the one they had entered on the day before. Slowly they climbed up from the valley to emerge in the shadow of the Misty Mountains. The sky was already light and the sun would be bright in the east, but was not quite over the mountains. They should make it to the slopes by nightfall and then push on over the pass the next day. Hopefully by then, their wizard would catch up.

'I don't like going on without Gandalf,' Kili muttered.

'I know,' Fili muttered back. They were near the front of the line of dwarves, with Balin still in the lead. 'I hope he catches us up soon.'

'Me too,' Kili agreed.

Thorin spoke from behind his nephews. 'We must make the start of the pass by dusk, so no dawdling, any of you,' he said, loud enough to be heard down the line.

Fili and Kili shared a look, wondering if their mutterings had been overheard. Thorin seemed to be even more morose than usual since he'd returned with Balin the previous evening and their meeting with the Lord Elrond. But they couldn't agree on whether that was because he'd had to ask the elves for help or because of the information the elves had provided. Certainly their leader seemed more determined than ever to reach their destination and they still had a long way to go yet.

They made the start of the pass just after dusk and found a half-exposed and empty cave to camp the night in. Thorin allowed a fire, grudgingly, but they needed something to cook their food on. The food was getting low, but if they could manage to get across the mountain to the plains beyond they could hunt before they entered the Greenwood. They ate in silence, everyone on their guard. The mountains were known to house orcs and goblins and the next day would be a dangerous one.

Thorin seemed lost in thought. 'Will we make the Mountain in time?' Fili ventured to ask him.

It roused the dwarf prince quite suddenly from his thoughts. 'Yes, I believe. If we continue to make good time we should arrive with a week or so to spare. It will have to be enough for I know of no quicker way to Erebor than the path we mean to take. Perhaps Gandalf knows of another, but he has not shared that with me.'

'When will Gandalf meet us?' Kili asked.

Thorin gave him a sharp look. 'I imagine when he's done talking to the elves. Could take days,' he groused, half under his breath.

Kili decided not to pursue that topic any further. It sounded like they might have to manage without Gandalf for a while. Which didn't particularly fill him with much hope for their errand. The wizard had already saved them from being a troll's meal, after all.

'Is the pass safe?' Fili pushed the conversation on to more important things.

Thorin actually shrugged. 'It has not been safe for many generations, but I suppose it is no more dangerous than most of the lands of Middle Earth. No doubt the elves guard it. We can hope they have done a good job as watchdogs. But keep your eyes and ears about you lads; there's no knowing what waits for us up in those peaks. You've done well so far, the two of you. And your mother kept telling me not to bring you along.'

Fili snorted. 'Like you ever listen to anything mother tells you.'

Their uncle looked uncomfortable. 'More often than I wish. But in this, I am glad I did not listen. You have been of great help to us when the orcs attack, especially that bow Kili. The hunting has also been important. I am proud of you,' he said, glancing between the two of them.

Kili was stunned. 'Thank you uncle.'

'Yes, thank you!' Fili echoed, a beat behind and clearly just as surprised.

'Now get your rest. You'll need it on the morrow.'

The thought of arguing that _Thorin_ needed more rest then they was quickly discarded. 'Yes uncle,' Fili agreed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Tolkien. Peter Jackson. Need I say more? There are quite a few lines from TH: AUJ in here, which of course belong to Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, Peter Jackson and Guillermo del Toro.**

* * *

At dawn they set out to climb the pass. It was slow going for all involved, though Bombur seemed to suffer the most. Bilbo, though he was certainly a homebody, managed to keep up well enough, and for the morning the going was fairly easy. They broke for a quick spot of lunch and then continued on. The path narrowed and one side of it fell away to a valley far below as the afternoon wore on. It began to darken much sooner than expected.

'I can't be sundown already!' Bofur pointed out.

'No, that's a storm coming. We need to keep going,' Balin explained. Renewed eagerness to reach the other side increased their pace as the sky darkened further and the winds got up. It started to rain in the late afternoon, quickly soaking all the members of the company and making the still narrowing path slippery and treacherous.

The thunder was so unexpected that Nori nearly took a nose dive off the cliff. It was getting too dangerous to continue on.

'Hold on!' Thorin shouted from ahead. 'We must find shelter!'

Fili sighed in relief. 'Thank Mahal for that.'

'Watch out!' Dwalin cried and everyone look up, wondering what had caught his attention. The site of the boulder hurtling towards them was a surprise. It hit above their heads and tumbled down in pieces. Every dwarf ducked.

'This is no thunderstorm, it's a thunder battle!' Balin cried and then they saw them, the rock giants in the mist of the rain.

Beside Fili, Bofur muttered, 'Bless me, the legends are true. Giants! Stone giants!' Fili was thinking similar thoughts. This was not a story he'd ever given any truth to, but it seemed that all the legends he had ever heard were coming true on this quest.

The ground beneath them moved and began to fall away. It took Kili a moment to realise his corner of rock was splitting away from where he stood next to Fili.

'No Kili, grab my hand,' his brother said, just as the rocks shifted apart completely. It was too late. 'Kili!' Fili's scream rent the air, but there was nothing Kili could do except hold on tight. The ground continued to move as the giant they were perched on flung a huge boulder and then was smashed by another giant in turn. Their perch began to rush towards the mountainside much, much too fast.

Balin flung an arm around Kili's shoulders. 'Hold on tight lad,' he muttered, seconds before the rock beneath their feet made contact with the mountainside. Kili was flung forwards and crashed into the rock before him with bruising force.

'That hurt,' he commented as rock began to shift all around them.

'Kili!' the scream was loud enough to be heard over the thunder battle around them. Thorin came racing around the edge of a rock and stopped dead.

'We're all right! We're alive!' Balin called over. The relief on their leader's face was noticable.

For a moment, at least. Bofur spotted the missing member of the company first. Ori managed to catch Bilbo just as he slipped from his white-knuckled grip on the rock, but then Ori began to slip forward on the wet rock too.

Before anyone else could intervene to help, Thorin was over the edge of the rock and lifting the Hobbit up to safety.

'No,' Fili breathed out as their uncle lost his own footing. He was pretty certain his heart failed to beat for the time it took Dwalin to pull his king back up to safety.

'I thought we'd lost our burglar,' Dwalin joked.

Thorin was clearly not in the mood. 'He's been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. He has no place amongst us.' Fili opened his mouth to say something, but Thorin didn't allow anyone to argue. 'Dwalin, we must find shelter.'

'That was unkind,' Fili resorted to muttering to Kili instead. Behind them Balin, sighed heavily.

'It's not his fault he slipped on the rocks; how can he walk at all without boots on?' Kili echoed.

The company slipped under an overhang and into a dry, if cold cave. The wind fell away behind them and the thunder could barely be heard inside.

'Search to the back,' Thorin ordered Dwalin as the rest of them settled around the rock strewn dirt.

'Right then! Let's get a fire started,' Gloin announced. That sounded really very nice indeed, but the thought lasted only a brief moment.

'No fires, not in this place.' Gloin sighed in defeat. 'Get some sleep. We start at first light.'

In the confines of the small cave everyone can heard Balin's reply to this. They have all been wondering the same thing.

'Plans change,' Thorin barked out instead. Kili nearly flinched. Gone is the uncle that was so proud of them the night before. Thorin Oakenshield, dwarf king in exile was with them again. Kili didn't like the change. 'Bofur, take the first watch.'

Kili sighed and settled down near Fili. 'It's not Bilbo's fault,' the fair haired brother whispered.

'It's no one's fault,' Kili returned. 'We'll deal with it in the morning. Maybe Gandalf will find us on his own. He probably has some magic or other than can track us.'

'Good point,' Fili agreed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Tolkien. Peter Jackson. Need I say more? There are quite a few lines from TH: AUJ in here, which of course belong to Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, Peter Jackson and Guillermo del Toro.**

* * *

They wake to Thorin's shouts and the ground falling away beneath them. It's not a pleasant wakeup call.

Each of them has known fear before now, not least when they were being chased across the wilderness by a pack of wargs, though some of them may be unwilling to admit it. But the fear that courses through them as they fall into the unknown, tumbling and bumping into each other, is worse still.

The shock of landing takes Kili's breath away and for a moment he can't see or hear, stunned senseless. When his sense return he looks around him, searching and finding the others around or under him. They are in a roofless cage that looks suspiciously like it is made of bone; the cavern beyond, lit by firelight, is massive.

Before anything else can filter into Fili's consciousness they are being grabbed and shoved and surrounded by the ugliest creatures the dwarves have ever seen. 'Fili', he whispers to his brother, only to be shoved roughly by the goblin behind him. Fili glances back but receives his own shove.

They are route marched through winding pathways along the cavern walls until they round a corner and can see in the distance a well-lit platform and the giant form of the ugliest goblin yet.

The shudder that passes through Kili is involuntary and completely appropriate.

Even more creatures surround them as they are herded onto the platform in front of the goblin king. Kili doesn't mind being hidden behind some of the others, but there is his uncle out in front. Suddenly, Kili knows for certain they will die here. They are more than outnumbered and even if they could fight off the immediately hoard enough to escape, there are thousands of goblins around. They will be picked off one by one until the company are all gone and they will never reach daylight. Whichever direction daylight i_is/i_.

He wants to protest as they are stripped of their weapons, but he can't even form words. This little quest of their uncle's is no longer the fun adventure it started out as. Kili just really wants to be home, suddenly, back in the Blue Mountains. He feels a rush of shame go through him at the thought. No doubt the others are all being strong and determined. Even Ori is managing not to look scared.

_Hold up, you coward_, Kili thinks to himself. The stories he grew up hearing were worse than this. The odds considerably more against the dwarves, and yet he is surrounded by warriors who survived those battles. There is still hope.

Shame quickly turns to anger at the goblin king's insult to Thorin. But the next comment sends a rush of disbelief and renewed fear through him. He turns to stare at his brother in shock.

Howe can the orc leader be alive? Balin said he died and Kili believes Balin above all others when he tells the stories. The orc had lost an arm, for Mahal's sake!

Thorin thinks likewise, though Kili can hear a note in the voice. His uncle is worried and not just about the situation they are in. He is worried the goblin king speaks true.

'Send word to the Pale Orc: tell him I have found his prize.'

Kili can see his uncle pale under his dark beard, even in the rosy glow of the torches burning around them. Kili can feel his own heart sink. Maybe it's not the same orc, but how many pale orcs _are_ there lying around?

Blessedly, or not, there is soon a distraction to be had. The goblin's calls for the torture implements have been met quickly. Kili can hear the commotion start in the distance, goblins screaming and laughing in their horrible voices. Soon, in the distance along the boardwalks, a great mass of creatures can be seen and between them they drag the most hideous devices the dwarves have ever seen. Crude doesn't even begin to describe them.

Kili's heart sinks further and the hope that had been glimmering in his heart, disguised as courage, fails.

He looks up to see his uncle staring at him. There is fear in Thorin's eyes. Genuine fear and regret. Kili knows Thorin wishes now he'd left his nephews behind. Kili sort of wishes the same thing. He can't stand it, seeing the weakness in the great warriors gaze so he turns his eyes to his fair-haired brother instead. Fili looks as bleak, but at least it helps a bit, this silent communication between brothers.

If anything, the goblins' singing is worse than their talking.

The sudden commotion in front of the group is at least a distraction. It is only after the cry echoes from the goblin nearest the dwarven weapon pile that Kili realises what has happened. Of course, the sword. The one Gandalf had given to Thorin. Thorin had explained what Lord Elrond had told him about the new weapon to the company as they climbed the west side of the mountains, but Kili had just thought it was another story. The time of the old elves was long past and how could Lord Elrond know where the sword came from just by looking at it? A better question was how these goblins knew about it, so many generations after the events that had named it.

But Kili doesn't have to wonder about that for long. The great goblin is not impressed and suddenly their captors bear down upon them. Kili sees his uncle disappear underneath a group of creatures and he tries to get to him.

'Thorin!' he cries, but his cry is lost in the shouting of eleven other dwarves.

The blast is stunning. Kili's ears are left ringing and there are dark spots in his vision. For a silent moment, no one moves – dwarf or goblin. Kili is not certain what's happened, but at least the goblins have stopped trying to kill Thorin.

Kili stumbles to his feet with the others, sound beginning to trickle back into his ears. There is Gandalf, staff in one hand, sword in the other. Gandalf, come to rescue them. Kili has never been so happy to see anyone in his life.

'Take up arms. Fight! Fight!' the wizard shouts at them and the dwarves need not further instructions. They dive for the weapons strewn before them, grabbing their own and any goblin blades at hand and begin to hack and slash. Kili grabs the nearest sharp object and slashes down the goblin in front on him in order to retrieve his bow and arrows. Goblins fall everywhere around them. The dwarves are angry now and Kili knows they won't stop until every last goblin is dead. The great king himself tumbles out of sight, but Kili doesn't spare a further glance.

'Follow me,' Gandalf calls. Quick! Run!' Kili and the others are only too happy to comply. It feels good to run, slashing and hacking away at the creatures that swarm them, sending dozens plummeting off the boardwalks to their deaths. Kili allows the thrill of battle to race through him, burning away fear and worry and everything except the desire and drive to kill the enemy. It feels wonderful.

The cavern walls and torches pass in a blur. It is all the dwarves can do to keep ahead of their pursuers. The goblins know these paths better than them, but clearly Gandalf has a destination in mind.

Kili ducks as an arrow sails towards him and then knocks another two aside with his sword, just as he spots the goblin shooting at him. There are a few more arrows yet. Quickly he grabs the nearest object to hand – a wooden ladder – and uses it as a make-shift shield against the rest of the volley and then lets it drop down on the heads of the goblins. It is good thinking and serves to create the bridge they need in the next gap in the path. As Kili runs by Dwalin, the warrior smashes the ladder behind them, cutting off the goblin's ability to follow. He turns to slap Kili hard on the back.

The cavern is a maze of pathways and boardwalks, but Gandalf never slows or loses his way.

Kili thinks they must be getting near the exit. His arms are tired and the strength the battle has brought is already beginning to fade. They need to reach the end soon.

Before them, the wooden floor erupts in a shower of wooden fragments and the goblin king stands before them. Kili had rather thought they'd gotten rid of him.

'You thought you could escape me?' he asks the company. 'What are you going to do now, wizard?'

Kili tightens his grip on the sword in his hand, bracing for a renewed fight.

With a swing of his staff and a slash of his sword, Gandalf gets there first. The great goblin falls forward and Gandalf slashes at his neck, killing him. Below them, the bridge they are on collapses, sending them hurtling downwards. Away from the goblins, at least.

Down, down they fall and Kili can feel his heart in his throat, wondering if they will ever reach a bottom.

They reach it soon enough.

'Ow,' he mutters, as the bridge collapses on top of him. The other dwarves echo the feeling.

'Well, that could have been worse,' Bofur states, right before something very heavy lands on top of them again. It is only the smell that tells Kili it's the dead goblin.

'You've got to be joking!' Dwalin shouts. Kili agrees, but he pulls himself out from under the wreckage all the same and looks around. Apparently, there is a bottom to the bloody mountain.

Unfortunately, they aren't safe yet. Kili is the first to spot the thousands of moving figures racing down the sides of the cavern.

'Gandalf!' he screams.

They cannot hope to fight this many. 'Only one thing will save us: daylight! Here, on your feet!' Quickly the company complies and flies after the wizard as he races away.

There is less goblin construction down here, so hopefully that is a good sign. And despite the long fall, Gandalf still seems to know where he is going. It doesn't take long before they reach a long tunnel and hurtle down it, vaguely aware of a light in the distance that is not fire.

Kili can feel the relief so great it nearly knocks him over when they emerge from the cave entrance into a dying day. There are trees and birds and sunlight. Safety.

Finally, they slow to a halt amongst the pines, trying to catch their breaths. Kili is inordinately tired.

Fili manages a smile for his brother. 'That was some fight,' he mutters.

'Fight?' Kili echoes. 'I think that counts as battle.'

'Where is our Hobbit?' Gandalf shouts.

That's a very good question. Kili suddenly can't remember when last he saw Bilbo.

'Curse the Halfling! Now he's lost?' Dwalin sounds more than a little annoyed. Not that he and Bilbo have exactly gotten on well.

'I thought he was with Dori!' Gloin protests, as if it's his fault the Hobbit has disappeared.

'Don't blame me!' Dori returns, equally annoyed.

'Well, where did you see him last?' Gandalf asks. It's a reasonable question, but there is a note of intense worry in the wizard's voice.

Nori pipes up from the back. 'I think I saw him slip away, when they first collared us.'

Kili thinks that might be true. Actually, he hasn't seen Bilbo since they fell asleep in the cave on the west side of the mountains after saving the Halfling from a tumble to his death.

'What happened exactly? Tell me!' Gandalf demands, and there is real worry in his voice now.

'I'll tell you what happened,' Thorin starts. Kili turns to look at his uncle. The look on his face is thunderous. 'Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it! He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door! We will not be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone.'

Kili hopes that is not true, but the evidence suggests it is. Though more likely he was caught by goblins and is now dead.

'No, he isn't,' the soft cultured voice behind them makes everyone jump. Bilbo appears as if out of thin around from around a pine tree. Kili shares a grin with his brother.

'Bilbo Baggins! I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life!' Gandalf announces.

'Bilbo,' Kili smiles as the Hobbit nears him. 'We'd given you up!'

'How on earth did you get past the goblins?' Fili asks what they've all been wondering.

'How indeed,' Dwalin mutters, loud enough for all to hear.

Bilbo hesitates.

'Well, what does it matter? He's back!' Gandalf decides, and Kili agrees. They are all safe and well; that's what matters.

'It matters!' Thorin buts in. 'I want to know: why _did_ you come back?'

Bilbo sighs heavily. Kili opens his mouth to disagree with Thorin, because it doesn't _really _matter, but Bilbo gets there first.

'Look, I know you doubt me. I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books,' he smiles. 'And my armchair. And my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home,' he smiles again, sadly this time. 'And that's why I came back, cause you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back, if I can.'

There is a long silence at that. No one seems to have a response, though Gandalf can't seem to stop smiling.

Howls break the moment.

Wargs.

'Out of the frying pan…' Thorin starts.

Gandalf sighs. '…and into the fire! Run! Run!'


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Tolkien. Peter Jackson. Need I say more? There are quite a few lines from TH: AUJ in here, which of course belong to Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, Peter Jackson and Guillermo del Toro. **

**This is the last chapter of this part of the story.**

* * *

Afterwards, Fili will consider the evening a blur. Logically he knows the chain of events that follow, but it all seems so impossible that he can't quite believe it's happened. For the first time, truly, he begins to wonder why he ever doubted the stories of his childhood that all seemed to fantastical. Clearly there is more truth in them than he thought possible and he feels a mark of shame that he ever thought Thorin or Balin or Dwalin had exaggerated to entertain or scare the young dwarflings.

It is a long slow trudge down from the Carrock. They are exhausted, hungry and battle worn and Fili knows that all of them have only enough energy left to focus on reaching the bottom. He is most worried about Thorin, because he knows his uncle is hiding his injuries. The rest of them have scrapes and tears in their clothing and exposed skin from the bad battle in the pine trees. And for the first time since he learned to wield a sword, Fili finds his arms so painful he cannot even give thought to lifting them, much less another fight.

Mostly, all Fili can think about is that fact that he owes Bilbo a debt that cannot be repaid. He knows Kili, trudging behind him, is thinking the same. No one else ran to Thorin's rescue. No one else stood in front of the pale orc and defied death. No one else saved Thorin Oakenshield's life. Fili's very glad that his uncle seems to have accepted the Hobbit in their company, at long last and really wishes it hadn't taken a near-death experience to accomplish it. He also knows that, if he and Kili are wondering about a life-debt to Bilbo, Thorin must be considering nothing else.

Finally they reach the bottom. Gandalf decides it is safe enough for a fire and he and Bofur go off to search out some useable wood. The rest of the company collapses where they are standing. Bilbo especially looks done in. Fili can only wonder what happened to the Hobbit while the dwarves were captives of the great goblin, but whatever it is has clearly taken the fight and strength out of Mr. Baggins.

Fili pushes his swore and tired body a little closer to the Halfling so that he can lean over to whisper to him without worry the others will overhear, except Kili.

'We owe you a great debt of thanks for saving our Uncle's life, Mr. Baggins. A great debt. And it will be repaid in full, on our honour of dwarves of the House of Thror.'

Bilbo blinks tired eyes at him, a little out of focus. 'Yes, yes, of course. Yes, that's quite fine,' he stammers and it is only when Fili realises his eyes have closed half-way through this short speech that Bilbo likely has no idea what was said to him.

With a sigh, Fili leans back against the rock behind him and follows the Hobbit's example. He barely stirs when the wood gatherers return. He's not even sure he can get up the energy to eat, except he knows he needs to. They have precious little supplies left; only what was stored on their person since there bags are lost under the Misty Mountains, but it will be enough for the night. They can hunt on the morrow.

The food isn't much, just some half crumbled cram cakes, dried meat they have been saving for an emergency – which they agree this is – and some root vegetables that Gandalf finds on the fire wood gathering expedition. These last they cut into chunks and cook on sticks over the fire because it is the quickest way and they don't taste very nice raw. It isn't green either, so Ori is willing to try it.

The food does help refresh them, temporarily. Enough that Dwalin has the presence of mind to set a watch in pairs, to ensure someone is always awake. Gandalf doesn't seem concerned, but Dwalin doesn't seem to care what the wizard thinks.

After supper is over, Fili closely observes Oin and Thorin have a very heated and entirely silent argument, in which Oin wins. Fili moves a little closer so he can see when the healer helps his uncle out of layers of leather, cloth and metal until Thorin is wearing only his thin under tunic and breeches. There is dried blood on the side of his neck, but when Oin pulls the fabric aside to see the wound, it looks slight. The blood is clotted and dried, though since it was made by a warg's teeth, Oin carefully cleans the jagged cut and applies an ointment against infection. The rest of the wounds to Thorin's body seem to be mostly black bruises covering the majority of his torso. Fili can't help flinch when Thorin removes his tunic so Oin can see. There is more black then flesh colour and Fili can't understand how Thorin has managed to get this far, all the way down from the Carrock, without collapsing in pain. It's a miracle the ribs seem to be – mostly – intact. There's also not much to be done.

Kili has a very pained expression on his face from where he is sitting on Fili's other side, and they can both see the others attempting not to pretend to watch. They do not like the feeling of seeing their leader so injured. Bilbo, of course, is still fast asleep and they are content to leave him that way. Sleep is more useful than food for the Hobbit right now.

It is only when Thorin has been help to redress, upon his own insistence that he will not lie in the wild unarmoured – what if they are attacked in the middle of the night? – when Fili lies down with his back to his brother's. Nori banks the fire and they all settle in near each other for the night. At least it is summer and warm, but there is a distinct feeling of anxiousness in the air, except from Gandalf, who seems surprisingly calm consider their recent plight.

The quest has not turned out to be at all like Fili had dreamt it to be. He and Kili had spent days before they had left their home, discussing the exciting adventure that was to come. It hasn't been exciting, except for very small moments, and those have been fewer and further between since they left Bilbo's homeland. Excitement has turned to fear and constant worry and Fili never thought it would be like this. He thought battles would be exciting and exhilarating things. He never thought he would worry about Kili and Thorin and all the rest so much that it was almost a distraction. He never thought he'd fear for his own life. Now he knows the stories his elders used to tell to him and Kili at bedtime and around the fire and down in the taverns are true. Every word of them. And that scares him in a way Fili can't quite wrap his head around, because the stories are so much worse than anything they have faced yet. But they might very well face such things in the future.

There's a fire breather still to come, if Smaug is still lurking in the depths of Erebor, as Balin seems to think. A massive dragon that chased the mightiest of dwarves away from their homeland for over a generation. Who killed an untold number of men and dwarves. Their company of thirteen, plus a wizard and a Hobbit, have barely survived a pack of wargs, a rogue orc and the might of the goblin kingdom. Do they really have a hope at defeating a dragon?

It is the last thought Fili has before he falls into welcome slumber.

* * *

**To Be Continued…this time next year.**


End file.
